Coiffure
by InnocentSkipper
Summary: Bakura helps Ryou brush his hair. Implied Tendershipping, or you could read it as Bakura messing with Ryou. Oneshot.


Ryou looked in a mirror as he slowly dragged his brush through his tangled white locks, wincing every time the brush snagged. He was watching the shimmer of the ancient spirit of the Ring pace angrily behind him.

/Sit down./ The order came, accompanied by a point towards a chair. Ryou sat without a word. With a long sigh, the spirit walked towards him. /Give it to me./ He held his hand out. Ryou looked confused. /The brush, landlord. Give it to me. Now./ He did as he was told, not wanting to anger the spirit.

He felt the spirit hold his hair with his shadowy fingers a few inches from the roots, allowing some slack between his scalp and his tight grip. He swiftly pulled the brush through the tangles and knots using long sweeps from his fingers down to the end of Ryou's hair. He used the handle to work the larger knots apart before he began brushing them, the wooden handle gently tapping the British boy's head.

Ryou had always viewed his hairbrush as a necessary instrument of torture, as he had never been able to brush his thick white hair without ripping a considerable amount out of his head, causing his hair to look well-groomed but leaving him with a throbbing head.

But this...this was something else entirely. The spirit was being almost tender with him, as he gently tamed the great mass of hair. The gentle tugging was bliss compared to the wrenching he normally inflicted upon himself. The sound of the strokes was hypnotic and soothing, as the wooden paddle brush stroked down the length of his hair. Occasionally, he felt the lightest of shadowy touches on his scalp that sent shivers down his spine, or the accidental contact with his neck as the spirit drew the brush through his pale locks.

Ryou closed his eyes, sighing happily. This was amazing – he hoped that the Spirit of the Ring would do this to him more often.

He shuddered happily as his yami lifted his hair up and began brushing underneath, his shadowy hand resting softly against the back of his neck. Ryou shivered as the hand moved in time with the strokes, rubbing without friction on his sensitive neck.

A gentle smack on the back of his head. /Stop that./ He was told firmly, but he could have sworn there was also an undertone of amusement in the spirit's words. Doing as he was bid, he stopped moving, trying to suppress his shivers as the shadowy hand brushed against his skin.

A firm hand on each side of his head guided it to look at the ceiling. /Stay./ He did. The gentle tickle of the brush on his scalp separated the tiny tangles he couldn't see, without any of his usual ripping and tearing.

A few swift strokes to neaten the hair, and the brush stopped. He heard himself make a small whimper, receiving another small smack on his head. /Hush./ The spirit lifted his hair, styling it with his hands. /_Now_ you can move, landlord./

Ryou looked in the mirror, hardly believing what he saw. "Amazing." He breathed, stunned. His hair was very long and very thick, with natural waves and curves that tempted it to tangle. Even after brushing it was always heavy with tiny knots the brush never found, and Ryou rarely had the time to completely brush it. Too little brushing, and the hair would begin to form dreads. Too much brushing, and it would begin to frizz and stick out.

But this was amazing. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his hair, expecting a smack that didn't come. He stopped and looked at the amused spirit. "Can I?" He whispered.

/If you must./ Came the bored reply.

Running his fingers through his hair, Ryou felt the tangle-free hair move through his fingers. He looked at the spirit, amazed. "Thank you, yami." He murmured.

Now the smack came, again to his head. /Move, landlord./ He said. /We'll be late./

"Sorry." The boy said, quickly pulling a jumper over his head. The wool caused his hair to stick out, and he tried to pat it back down.

A sigh was felt through the mental link they shared. /I'll fix it, landlord./

Ryou stood still as the wooden brush again fixed his hair. The static quickly vanished, but due to the wooden brush or the spirit's touch, Ryou didn't know.

Hand on the doorknob, Ryou turned to the spirit, a large smile on his face. "Do you..." He swallowed, suddenly nervous under the spirit's gaze. "Do you want to come, yami?"

/Why?/ The bored response came. /There is nothing for me to do at an event for mortals./

"You can use my body." Ryou blurted. "I mean...if you want to?" He phrased it as a question. "You did help me get ready, and I-"

A shadowy hand covered his mouth. /Shut up./ The spirit said softly. Smirking as the pale boy blushed, he continued. /Perhaps I will _use_ this _body_..." He leant in closer. /To have some _fun_.../ He chuckled darkly as he ran his fingers through Ryou's soft hair.

"Y-y-yami?" Ryou stammered.

/Landlord./ The spirit smiled evilly.

"Well, I'd better get going. Don't want to be late." Ryou rambled as he quickly left the room. As the door closed, the spirit laughed.

/I should brush his hair more often./ He mused. He looked at his fingers. /He needs to condition more. He's getting split ends./ Smirking as he remembered the look on his hikari's face, he wondered, "I wonder if he needs help with that too?/


End file.
